


mouth of the devil

by ito



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Demon Hunters, Angst and Humor, Buffyverse - Freeform, Demons, Drunk Sex, M/M, Magic-Users, Mild Brief Smut, Non-Graphic Violence, Vampires, donghyuck the teenage witch, legal smoking blends, pie for breakfast, taeyong possesses powerful stripper magic, vampire mates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2018-06-03
Packaged: 2018-12-09 01:35:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 15,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11658879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ito/pseuds/ito
Summary: what do you get when you take two inept demon hunters, a vegan vampire, a warlock, a psychic, and a stripper, and have them team up for the greater purpose of gay romance?[[FINALLY COMPLETED]] #GivingTheGaysEverythingTheyWant





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is set in the buffy the vampire slayer/angel universe, but you don't have to have watched either show to read it .... theres vamps and demons and magic and one (1) slayer who doesnt show up at all in this fic.
> 
> if you want a reference to what the vampires in this universe look like [they ain't pretty but here ya go](https://jonathanbudden.files.wordpress.com/2010/03/spike-2.jpg).

The worst thing you can find, as a demon hunter, when you walk into a room – aside from an unexpected nest of vamps or just Straight Up Fucking Murder – is your teenage apprentice getting pinned to a hotel bed by the incubus that he was _supposed_ to be killing. Doyoung chokes on his spit a little and swings his portable battle ax (travel-size, smaller than his regular one) out of his Jansport, aiming it at the creature’s head.

“HE’S _SEVENTEEN,_ YOU MONSTER!” Doyoung yells, flinging it at the incubus. It catches him on the shoulder, only narrowly missing Mark (whatever), and sends the creep tumbling off the bed with a groan. Mark sits up, rubbing the hickey on his neck.

“I had it under control,” he whines.

“You clearly _did not_ , you stupid kid,” Doyoung snaps. “We are going to have one hell of a talk when we get back to HQ, young man.”

The incubus’ silver head peeks up over the edge of the mattress, only to flinch down again when he sees Doyoung’s hand jerk towards the concealed blade in his belt. He waves his left arm, the one that wasn’t nearly severed by Doyoungs ax, and calls out in a shaky voice, “I didn’t know he was a minor, okay? I may be evil but I'm not a _scumbag_.”

“Shut up!” Doyoung says.

“Stay out of this, Taeyong,” Mark adds sheepishly.

Doyoung frowns, rolling his eyes. “Oh, good, I’m glad you got his name. Now we can all be friends, I guess,” he says, glaring between the two of them.

“Hey man, I don’t want any trouble,” Taeyong says, holding out a cautious hand in front of him as he stumbles to his feet. He reaches up to wiggle the ax out of where it’s lodged in his shoulder, and tosses it to the ground between them. Doyoung beckons urgently at Mark, who takes the hint and scurries over to huddle behind him. Taeyong raises his hands slightly in surrender and cranes his neck to look at Mark, who peeks back at him over Doyoung’s shoulder.

"Why didn’t you tell me you were seventeen?” Taeyong asks gently.

“Because I didn’t want you to stop,” Mark admits, blushing. Doyoung groans and rubs at his temples.

Taeyong chuckles. “That’s cute. Well, this was fun and all, but I think I’m gonna be heading out now—”

“I think _not_ , you evil son of a bitch!” Doyoung says. “We’ve got a sworn duty to hunt and eradicate your kind, now just hold still so I can kill you.”

Taeyong makes a pained expression somewhere between a grimace and a shit-eating grin. “I don’t want to hurt you guys,” he mumbles.

“That won’t be an issue,” Doyoung replies, nudging at Mark with his elbow. The younger pouts but goes to pull a crossbow out of Doyoung’s backpack.

“Ah,” Taeyong murmurs, eyes landing on the silver point of the arrow aimed directly at his heart. “Well,” he says, “there’s something you two didn’t think about.” And then, lightning fast, he turns and dives out the window.

Doyoung shrieks indignantly and runs out to lean against the iron handrail, watching as a winged black shape rises up and out of sight into the night sky. “Coward!” he yells. Mark slowly approaches him and hesitantly places a hand on his shoulder. Doyoung’s head whips around to glare at him.

“What were you _thinking_? You could have gotten yourself _killed!_ ” he yells.

Mark flinches. “Well, uh, actually, if he was an incubus he wouldn’t have _killed_ me, exactly…”

“Oh, right, and the alternative would have been _so_ much better,” Doyoung says, rolling his eyes.

“Well…” Mark begins, only to trail off when he sees the warning in Doyoung’s expression. “You’re right, I made a mistake,” he says solemnly.

As they make their way out of the hotel, Doyoung sets a brusque pace, and Mark has to jog slightly to keep up with him. “Just so you know,” he adds, “I wasn’t under his incubus thrall or anything. He was just _really hot_ , that’s all.”

“Mark, you’re not even _gay_ ,” Doyoung sighs.

Mark sniffs, offended. “And how would _you_ know what I am? I’m still young, still experimenting—”

“Still annoying.”

“—Still _growing!_ Can’t I make mistakes?”

“No, you can’t!” Doyoung says, exasperated. “In this line of work, one mistake is enough to get you killed. Don’t you get it?”

“Yeah, I get it. It’s not like you’ve given me this talk a million times or anything,” Mark groans. Doyoung whirls around and grabs Mark by the collar.

“And you still don’t listen to me,” he snarls. “Remember this?” He drags his fingers roughly over the side of Mark’s neck, where two puncture wounds are scarred over but still pink. “ _This_ is what happens when you’re not careful.”

Mark bats his hand away. “I know, alright? Please stop.” He frowns at the ground.

Doyoung sighs and rubs his forehead. He’s pretty hard on the kid, just because he’s not sure how else to get the danger of their profession through his thick adolescent skull. People usually feel invincible at that age, and Mark is no different. “I’m sorry to be so harsh,” Doyoung murmurs, beginning to walk again, this time at a more manageable pace. “It’s just… I’m still so scared from that time, you know? You were bleeding out, and I had to tell the hospital staff that you had an accident with a barbecue fork, and if I had gotten there a second too late and that vampire had already _turned_ you, then…” Doyoung goes silent. He doesn’t have to say the last part. The only thing worse than losing his apprentice would be having to put him back in the ground himself. Mark is quiet too, but he puts his hand on Doyoung’s shoulder, and the elder doesn’t shrug it off this time.

They make it the rest of the way back to their office building in silence. It’s in a bad part of town, which Doyoung says is because that’s where monsters are more likely to frequent, but in reality it’s because they can’t afford the rent anywhere else; demon hunting doesn’t exactly pay that well. They make their way up the stairs (the elevator is broken), past the struggling online news offices and shady private law firms, until they reach the top level, where there’s no longer any grimy brown carpeting on the floor and the yellowish fluorescent lights buzz and flicker slightly. They approach the door to their office/apartment, which used to have fancy gold lettering on the window until it was smashed in a freak unexpected-werewolf related accident a while ago. They haven’t been able to afford a replacement, and now the door just has a wooden board over the hole with “Paranormal Investigators” written on it in Sharpie. Doyoung fishes around in his Jansport for the keys, almost cutting himself on the variety of weaponry inside.

“What do you want for dinner?” he asks Mark, who shrugs.

“I dunno. If you want I can do the thing where I add bulgogi sauce to some fried rice and make it taste like meat.”

"Yum. Meat-like flavor. Let’s do it.” Doyoung gets his key in the lock and pauses. “It’s not locked?” he says. Mark’s eyes widen.

“What… what does that mean?”

“Did we forget to lock it when we left?”

Mark shakes his head slowly. “I don’t remember.”

“Get your crossbow,” Doyoung suggests. Mark nods silently and fumbles for it in the backpack. When he’s got the weapon ready, string taut, Doyoung gently pushes open the door.

The lights are on inside, which is… a good sign? Maybe? And once they get past the mudroom, not bothering to take off their shoes, they get into the office space, where a young man is waiting by the desk.

He turns around and jumps a little bit before bowing politely.

“Hello,” he says in a surprisingly deep voice that doesn’t suit his delicate features. “I’m Sicheng.”

“What are you doing in our house?” Doyoung asks.

Sicheng blinks. “You live here? I thought this was an office building.” Doyoung clears his throat, embarrassed.

“We have a mattress in the back,” Mark explains for some reason.

“Shut up,” Doyoung hisses.

“You two sleep together?” Sicheng asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Doyoung says, in his direction this time. “Don’t say anything,” he adds to Mark. Then he turns back to face the stranger, hand twitching towards his concealed blade. “The question still stands. What are you doing here?”

Sicheng laces his fingers together awkwardly. “Well, you guys look into… supernatural stuff, right?”

“Yes,” Doyoung says. Mark lowers the crossbow but Doyoung reaches back to lift it up again. He eyes the stranger suspiciously. “You require our services?”

“I need your help,” Sicheng says. “I’ve got kind of an odd request. I need you to help me find someone who might… who might not be human?” He ends the sentence as a question.

“And why, pray tell, do you want to find this… person?” Doyoung squints.

“He’s my…” Sicheng coughs. “We’re very close. We’ve been… together a while, and uh…”

“It’s okay if you’re gay,” Mark interrupts. Doyoung turns back to give him a stare of disbelief. “What? _I_ might be gay,” Mark shrugs. Unfortunately, the movement makes his trigger finger slip, and the crossbow launches an arrow right into the chest of their visitor.

“Aaugh,” Sicheng grunts, getting knocked back a half step and then looking down at the shaft protruding from his solar plexus. He blinks and glances up at Mark and Doyoung to gauge their reactions.

Mark’s eyes are wide and his face is pale. “Um. Sorry?” he says.

Doyoung on the other hand is getting angrier by the second. “What the fuck was that?” he shouts at Mark. “What if this guy was human? You could have killed him!”

“I’m sorry, it was an accident!”

“Jesus, kid, you’re a real mess today. And _you! —_ ” Doyoung whirls back to point an accusing finger at Sicheng, who is slowly building up the courage to rip the arrow out of his chest. “What _are_ you?”

“Ah, um, let me explain,” Sicheng says bashfully. He wrenches the arrow out from under his ribcage with a pitiful little squeak and lets it fall to the ground, pouting as he runs his hand over the fresh rip in his t-shirt. “Can we sit down?”

“Not until you tell us what the hell is going on,” Doyoung responds.

“Okay, um, don’t freak out. But I’m a vampire? Hang on, I can do the thing, just give me a sec—” Sicheng rolls his head around, stretching his neck, and then shifts his face, his eyes going yellow and his forehead bumpy, his lips drawing back from protruding fangs. The effect only lasts a second, and he shifts back when he sees Doyoung pulling a stake from his backpack. “Wait, wait, I can explain, okay? I’m not like most vampires. I have a soul.”

“Literally every vampire tries that one when they see the stake,” Doyoung points out.

Sicheng snorts and then covers his mouth. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but you guys really aren’t that scary.”

“Try me, bitch,” Mark says, jutting out his lower lip.

“Shut up, Mark,” Doyoung says again.

Sicheng chuckles and lifts his hands in surrender. “Look, I know it’s hard to believe, but there was this sorcerer, and I kind of… ate his girlfriend? And he did the whole soul-restoration curse thing, I dunno, he must have watched a lot of TV or something. But yeah, that was like over thirty years ago? And now I’m reformed.”

“And now you want us to help you find someone. Another vampire?” Doyoung says, raising his eyebrows.

“Yes. He and I were… yeah, okay, we were partners, for a few centuries. He was my sire, back in the Qing dynasty. And then three years ago he just… disappeared.”

“Hey, why don’t you have any bite marks?” asks Mark. “What? I was just wondering, jeez,” he says when Doyoung gives him another glare.

“I, um, I do. They’re not on my neck,” Sicheng explains. When Mark frowns questioningly, he adds, “There’s the femoral artery right here.” He points to the juncture between his thigh and hip.

“Why would he bite you there instead of your neck, though?” Mark asks. Sicheng blushes.

“Mark, shut up,” Doyoung says again. “So we help you find this guy and, what, you two get to continue your romantic bloody rampage all over the southern peninsula, is that it?”

“Well, actually, I’d say he’s more dangerous without me than with me,” Sicheng says. “When I got my soul back, he stayed faithful, even though I made him go on an oxblood-only diet.” He casts his eyes downward. “That’s how much he loved me,” he whispers, obviously sore.

“I’m sorry, dude,” Mark says.

“What’s this vampire’s name, then?” Doyoung asks.

“Yuta. He’s everything to me, you need to help me find him,” Sicheng pleads.

Doyoung’s jaw drops. “Wait. You aren’t talking about _Bloody Nakamoto_ , are you?” Sicheng lets out a high-pitched nervous laugh.

“Who’s that?” Mark asks.

“He’s notorious in Japan and China,” Doyoung explains. “He used to bleed people for _days_ , keeping them alive so that their blood would stay fresh.” He wrinkles his nose. “They say that during the Heian period he would seduce young women and then hang them from the ceiling, cutting their throats like chickens.” Mark whistles. “They also say he used to eat babies,” Doyoung adds.

“Okay, to be fair, that babies thing was just something he made up to impress people,” Sicheng points out. Mark snorts.

“Consider me unimpressed,” Doyoung deadpans.

“He’s different when he’s with me,” Sicheng presses. “We were clean for thirty years together before he left. Now I’m worried that he’s off… you know.”

“Eating people?” Mark helps.

Sicheng gulps. “Yeah. I’m worried about him.”

“He could be off massacring villages, and you’re worried about _him_?” Doyoung asks incredulously.

“I know, I know, but because of our decades of… an _alternative diet_ … he’s not as strong as he used to be,” Sicheng explains. “I think that a hunter might get him. Now that more people are learning about the existence of our kind, there have been all sorts of vigilantes like you guys. And they don’t care that he’s been off human blood.” Sicheng hangs his head. “I know it was dumb of me to come here, but I didn’t know what else to do.”

Doyoung groans and leans his head back. The vampire in front of him was once a killer, to be sure, but he’s also… well, cute. And kind of pathetic. Doyoung looks at Mark for advice, but the younger just shrugs. “I think we should help him, hyung,” he whispers. What a softie.

“Okay, vamp, say we help you find your boyfriend,” Doyoung says. “What’s in it for us?”

Sicheng’s eyes widen hopefully and he reaches into his back pocket, withdrawing a thick envelope. “It seems like you guys are in some financial trouble, so…” he extends the envelope to Doyoung, who snatches it, tucking his stake under his arm to leaf through the cash inside.

When he’s done counting, he glances back up at Sicheng, who is chewing nervously on his lower lip. “You’d really give us all of this?” he asks. Sicheng nods.

“I don’t exactly have to pay for food, or heating, or anything,” he explains. “And I’ve been saving for hundreds of years, so.”

Doyoung nods. “You could have led with the cash and saved us all a lot of time,” he says finally. Sicheng’s eyebrows shoot up.

“So you’ll help me?”

Doyoung sighs. “Yeah, we’ll help you.” Sicheng claps giddily and bounces on his feet. Cute. “Don’t get too excited,” Doyoung adds quickly. “We have no idea where to start looking. This guy could be anywhere.”

“I know he has a friend in the city,” Sicheng says, rubbing his chin. “He’s a demon, but he’s not dangerous. His name is Taeyong.”

Doyoung’s jaw drops. Mark lets out a hysterical little giggle.

“You guys know him?” Sicheng asks.

“We, uh, kind of tried to kill him today,” Doyoung says.

“Tried?” Sicheng looks amused. “He’s not really that strong. Why didn’t you?”

“Motherfucker ran away,” Doyoung mutters.

“He’s got wings. He’s so cool,” Mark adds. Sicheng nods in agreement.

“Well, I’m glad you didn’t kill him,” he says slowly. “Taeyong is one of the only connections that Yuta kept after we went off human blood. He’s really nice, actually. He helped take care of me for a while when Yuta left.”

“Take care of you?” Doyoung asks.

“Most butcher shops are only open when the sun is up,” Sicheng explains. “And Taeyong is so handsome that nobody working there would ask why he was buying mass quantities of animal blood.”

“You said ‘for a while,’” Mark interrupts. “What happened? Did you guys have a falling out?”

“…Sort of,” Sicheng says. “Actually, we kind of… slept together.”

“Oh,” Mark says.

“And then I got mad, because I was stupid and didn’t want to accept responsibility for my own actions. And I blamed him. And now we don’t talk anymore.”

“Uh, I’m sorry,” Doyoung says.

“Yeah, same here, I didn’t mean to pry or anything,” Mark says, stumbling over his words with a blush.

“It’s okay, I guess you guys should know if we’re going to be talking to him,” Sicheng says, smiling sadly. “I just hope he’ll still help me, after everything.”

“Ooo…kay,” Doyoung says, finally walking all the way into the room and dropping his backpack on the ground. He sits in the swivel chair and swings his legs up onto the desk, folding his hands on his lap. Mark walks over and puts down his crossbow, taking a seat on the desk in front of Doyoung. “So, now we just have to figure out how we’re gonna find this Taeyong guy.”

The room goes quiet for a moment as everybody thinks. “Hyung,” Mark says eventually, “I think I have an idea.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just posting this now cause marks only gonna be seventeen for like another week LMAO


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> smut

“I hate this idea,” Doyoung grumbles. The three of them had waited until the sun dipped just below the horizon before making their way out of the city and into the suburbs, where they now stand in front of a charming little ranch house with a pleasantly messy garden.

“I still don’t get why you hate this guy so much,” Mark says. “You said he was the best lay you ever had.”

“I told you not to talk about that,” Doyoung snaps, glancing at Sicheng, who pretends not to have heard.

“He’s a witch?” Sicheng asks innocently.

“A warlock,” Doyoung corrects. “He gets his powers from some dark, supernatural, probably evil force that I can’t begin to comprehend. And I don’t trust that shit.” He pauses, looking up past the white picket fence to the bright cherry-red door.

“He’s got cute taste for an evil wizard,” Mark points out.

“ _Warlock_ ,” Doyoung says again, “And don’t you fall for his tricks. The guy is _shady_. He makes deals with all kinds of creatures, good, evil, neutral, whatever. He doesn’t have any moral code that I can discern.”

“Sounds like a pretty chill guy,” Mark hums. “And he even responded to your text after you ignored him for months. So, are we going to ring the doorbell, or are you going to keep stalling?”

“Shut up. We’re going.” When they approach the door, there’s not actually a doorbell for them to ring. Instead there’s a bronze knocker, which Doyoung doesn’t even get to touch before the door is opened by someone he’s never seen before.

The kid – well, not exactly a kid, he seems to be around Mark’s age – looks their group up and down before turning and screaming “ _Hyung the cute guy you were talking about is here with his friends!_ ” into the space behind him. Then he turns back to them and smiles sweetly. “He’ll be here in a second,” he says.

Indeed, soon they are met by a good-looking dimpled gentleman wearing a pink gingham apron and wiping his hands on a tea towel. “Subtle as always, Donghyuck,” he says to the kid, who winks and heads back into the house. The warlock glances at their party and smiles. “Hello again, Doyoung,” he says, eyes glinting as he puts the towel over his shoulder.

“Jaehyunnie,” Doyoung says curtly.

“And I haven’t met your friends before, have I?” he extends a hand towards Mark, who accepts it and introduces himself.

“I’m Mark,” he says, eyes wide. Doyoung knows what the kid must be feeling – touching Jaehyun is like putting your hand on a thrumming energy source. The dude’s got power rolling off of him at all times.

Jaehyun laughs at Mark’s awed expression. “I’m Jaehyun.” He turns to look at Sicheng. “And who’s this handsome vampire?”

Sicheng blushes and accepts the hand that he is offered. “I’m Sicheng,” he murmurs.

“May we come in?” Doyoung asks.

“Ah, yes,” Jaehyun says, stepping to the side and beckoning them to enter. “You can come in as well,” he says to Sicheng, who hesitates on the threshold. The vampire nods appreciatively and follows the others inside.

The interior of the house is just as quaint as the outside, with warm wooden floors and cross-stitched throw pillows. Jaehyun leads them to the kitchen, where Donghyuck is preparing a pot of tea. Jaehyun motions for the trio to sit at the table as he peeks in the oven, where a pie is apparently almost done baking.

“It won’t be done for another four minutes, hyung,” Donghyuck says, pouring several cups and placing them on the table. He grabs a mug for himself and sits _real close_ to Mark, making a dumb face at him when his eyebrows go up.

Doyoung takes a mug and sniffs at it. It’s got an odd floral scent that he can’t place. “It’s dandelion, lavender, and hibiscus,” Donghyuck says, as if reading his mind. Jaehyun takes a seat at the table and smiles fondly at his young assistant.

“So, what brings you boys out to our neck of the woods?” he asks, stirring his tea three times clockwise and once counterclockwise. “I take it your vampire friend is having some problems. Is it his soul?”

Sicheng’s eyes widen. “How did you know about my soul?” he asks.

Jaehyun smiles. “I can feel it throbbing from here.”

“Ew,” Mark says. Doyoung nods in agreement.

“When a vampire gets his soul back, it’s like the skin that grows over a terrible burn,” Jaehyun explains. “It’s still fresh, and I bet it stings a little too, hmm?” Sicheng nods.

“It’s been three decades, and it still… hurts,” he murmurs.

“But you’re glad you have it?” Jaehyun asks softly. Sicheng nods again. “And I assume Doyoung prefers it this way as well. So again I ask, what’s the problem?”

“We need your help with a spell,” Doyoung says. “We’re trying to find—”

“Hyung, your pie is ready,” Donghyuck interrupts. “Sorry,” he adds, when Jaehyun gives him a stern look.

“It’s okay,” Doyoung smiles. “We’re trying to find a demon named Taeyong.”

“That’s a funny name for a demon,” Jaehyun says, rising to take the pie out of the oven. “What is he? Brachen? Kailiff? _Ooh!_ ” he gasps, “ _Fyarl_? Love those guys.”

“An incubus, you weirdo,” Doyoung says. Jaehyun’s eyes widen and then he bursts out laughing.

“Oh my Gods,” he says. “Are… are you guys trying to get Sicheng _laid?_ ”

“Something like that. _Ow!”_ Mark yelps, kicked in the shin under the table by Doyoung.

“We need his help to find Sicheng’s vampire friend who’s gone missing,” Doyoung says.

“Ahh,” Jaehyun hums. He puts a hand to his chin, clearly pretending to think about it. “Okay,” he says finally, when Doyoung starts drumming his fingertips on the table. “I’ll give you your demon locator spell. On _one condition_.”

“Oh God,” Doyoung groans.

Jaehyun smiles sweetly, his face dimpling. “Go out with me tonight, let me buy you a drink, and then I’ll do the spell with Donghyuck when we get back.”

“Aaagh,” Doyoung sighs. He knew it. He glances at Mark, who is giving him a nasty smile, and then at Sicheng, who _has_ to know what he’s doing with those puppy dog eyes. “Eeurgh. Okay, but just _one drink_ ,” Doyoung says with a scowl.

“Excellent,” Jaehyun says, rubbing his hands together in a totally-not-malicious way. “I know just the place.”

 

The _place_ is a seedy bar somewhere that Doyoung’s never been. He’s not even sure where they are, since Jaehyun just straight-up _teleported_ them there. Doyoung stumbles forward, almost falling onto the sidewalk in front of the establishment, his head spinning.

“I hate that shit. It gives me vertigo,” he complains, rubbing his head. Jaehyun just laughs and nudges him towards the door with a gentle hand on his lower back.

The bar is even more grimy inside, but that’s not what catches Doyoung’s attention. The main thing that sticks out to him is its overwhelming demon population. Most of the customers have horns and scales. A few have tusks. There’s a couple of vampires hanging around, and a party of creatures in the back is guffawing and slamming their table with cloven hooves. Doyoung shrinks a little bit behind Jaehyun, who doesn’t seem at all phased by the company.

“I feel like I stick out like a sore thumb,” Doyoung whispers.

“Just be cool. You’re not the first human to come in here, and I’m sure the others don’t mind the smell,” Jaehyun grins.

“That’s kind of what I’m worried about,” Doyoung says, avoiding the gaze of a hungry-looking vamp at a table nearby. “I didn’t bring any weapons.”

“Why would you bring weapons on a date? That’s impolite,” Jaehyun says, grabbing his hand and leading him up to the bar.

“This isn’t a date,” Doyoung hisses.

“The requirement of our deal is that this _is_ a date,” Jaehyun points out. “Oy, barkeep,” he shouts, rapping on the wood with his knuckles. A tall dude appears behind the counter. He looks human, but Doyoung highly doubts that he is.

“Jung Jaehyun, as I live and breathe!” the bartender says. “Or, I mean, you know. How have you been?”

“Pretty good, how’s the food service treating you?” Jaehyun responds.

“Ah, I mean, it’s good and all. A few colorful fights now and then. Demons, you know?” The man tucks a strand of hair behind his ear, which is… slightly longer than human ears usually are.

“Oh boy, do I,” Jaehyun chuckles. “This is Doyoung, by the way.”

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Johnny,” the bartender says, extending a clawed hand. Doyoung stares at it. “Ah, is he a human?” Johnny asks Jaehyun, withdrawing his hand and scratching at his chest.

“Through and through,” Jaehyun says. “Don’t spread the word, but he’s one of those _vigilante types_.”

“Ah,” Johnny says, nodding. “You’re one of the one’s that’s been killing off all my customers, huh?”

“Um. Sorry?” Doyoung says.

“Can we get a table, then? I’m trying for a romantic evening,” Jaehyun says, changing the subject.

“Sure,” Johnny replies, eyes sparkling. “Although I gotta say, you came to the wrong place.”

“Eh, it’s got…” Jaehyun trails off as behind him, a M’Fashnik pummels a Bogh’dar demon’s head into the ground. “…Atmosphere?” he offers.

“Mhm.” Johnny raises his eyebrows and smiles. “ _TEN!_ ” he hollers suddenly, making Doyoung jump a little bit. Ten? Ten _what?_

Turns out, Ten is a cute little humanoid demon with a sweet smile and a long, tufted tail. He comes out from a back room carrying a massive keg of what could be beer, but knowing the clientele, is probably blood or piss or something.

“Can you show this couple to a table?” Johnny asks, and Ten nods, setting down the tank with a loud clang – it must be deceptively heavy – and coming out from behind the bar, waving at them to follow him.

“Can I get some drinks for you two?” Johnny asks before they walk away.

“Gin and tonic for me, and… white zinfandel for the lady,” Jaehyun says. “Hold the plasma,” he adds with a wink in Doyoung’s direction. Doyoung sighs and rolls his eyes before following Ten to a secluded table in the back.

“You remembered my drink,” Doyoung says when they’re seated. “I guess I’m impressed.”

“Hey, it takes a real man to drink rosé,” Jaehyun laughs. “Also…” his voice drops lower, and Doyoung has to lean in to hear him – “I haven’t forgotten anything from that night.”

Doyoung scowls and leans back again, crossing his arms over his chest. “Me neither,” he says, “including when you bragged about that deal you made with the Mok’tagar demon a month before.”

Jaehyun waves his hand dismissively. “Ah, whatever. You know, she never _did_ end up stealing that guy’s soul. You could say it ended well.”

 

Back in the suburbs, Donghyuck, Mark, and Sicheng are still sitting around the table.

“So, uh, what’s it like working with Jaehyun? He seems pretty cool,” Mark says.

“He is. He’s nice,” Donghyuck smiles. “He bakes a lot. And we do spells together.”

“Are you, like, tapped into the dark forces or whatever?”

“No, I don’t need that stuff to use magic,” Donghyuck says proudly.

Mark raises his eyebrows. “Really? Does that mean you’re more powerful than Jaehyun?”

Donghyuck lets out a high-pitched laugh. “No way! He’s got more magick in his little finger than I do. He just gets it from a different source.”

“And what’s your deal, then? Are you a wicca or something?”

“No,” Donghyuck replies. “I’m a psychic.” He wiggles his eyebrows.

“No shit?”

“Yuh-huh. I can see the future. Sometimes,” he adds.

“Tell me something that’s gonna happen.” Mark folds his hands under his chin.

“Let’s see,” Donghyuck says, tapping his chin. “Oh. Jaehyun-hyung and Doyoung are gonna have sex tonight.”

Mark wrinkles his nose. “Okay, first of all, ew. Second of all, that was already like a fifty-fifty chance anyway. Give me something better.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes. “Well… oh, okay.” He turns to Sicheng, who has been sitting quietly and listening to their conversation. “Your demon friend is gonna be naked when you find him,” Donghyuck laughs. Sicheng giggles.

“Oh boy,” Mark says. “That’s… oh boy.”

“You like him?” Donghyuck teases.

“He’s an attractive man,” Mark replies.

“He’s an incubus. It’s in the job description,” Donghyuck points out.

“He’s also got a lovely personality,” Sicheng breaks in. Mark and Donghyuck stare at him for a second before the three of them dissolve into laughter.

 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Doyoung wheezes.

“No, I’m serious. So there’s rabbits _everywhere_ , and I’m thinking, why are all these spells just conjuring more rabbits?” Jaehyun says, waving his arms expressively. “And then I realized that it was probably the ancient text that I was reading from.” The whole “just one drink” thing didn’t end up working out, and after the second glass of wine, the two of them had switched to taking shots of Fireball.

“So what did you do?” Doyoung asks, propping his chin on his hand.

“Well, honestly, I panicked,” Jaehyun says. “I opened up an inter-dimensional rift to a reality without bunnies, and shooed them all inside with a broom.”

“And it worked?” Doyoung says incredulously.

Jaehyun nods. “And now there is not a single plane of reality without bunnies. I think I did the multiverse a favor.”

“God,” Doyoung says, “I guess you did.”

 “Want to do another shot?”

“You bet I do,” Doyoung answers, pouring out two more cups from the bottle that Ten had left at their table. “This isn’t real Fireball, is it? Or I mean, something’s been done to it, right?”

“What makes you say that? Is it the smoke that comes out of your nose when you swallow it? Because that’s just a simple charm, completely harmless,” Jaehyun chuckles.

“Here’s to… upsetting the balance of the universe by putting bunnies where they shouldn’t be,” Doyoung suggests, raising his glass.

“I’ll drink to that,” Jaehyun responds. “Cheers.”

 

“It’s been a while. Do you think they’re going to be coming home tonight?” Mark asks, glancing at the clock on the kitchen wall and then frowning and turning away when he realizes it doesn’t have any hands or numbers.

“Oh, they definitely will,” Donghyuck says with a deep sigh. “You’re also probably going to have to sleep here. I can lend you both earplugs,” he offers.

“Why, do you snore?” Sicheng asks.

Donghyuck lets out a short laugh. “Not exactly,” he says, not offering any other explanation.

“So… do you have any video games?” Mark asks.

Donghyuck shakes his head. “I’ve got cards. Do you know how to play BS?”

“Yes, but there is absolutely no way I’m gonna play BS with a psychic,” Mark replies.

“Hm, I guess that’s fair,” Donghyuck says. “Do you want to smoke some herbs?” he offers.

Mark’s eyebrows shoot up. “What, like weed?”

Donghyuck shrugs. “I mean, we have hemp. But we also have skullcap, mullein, catnip, that kind of stuff.”

“You can smoke catnip?” Mark says, interested.

“Oh yeah. Ah, Sicheng-hyung,” Donghyuck says suddenly. “Do you want some blood or something?”

“Oh, um, that’s very nice of you to offer,” Sicheng says, blinking. “As long as it’s not human blood, sure.”

“We’ve got all kinds of blood,” Donghyuck replies. “Mammal, reptile, demon, you name it, we’ve got it. It’s in hyung’s liquor cabinet.”

Mark snorts. “That’s a weird place to keep blood.”

“Is it?” Sicheng asks.

“Maybe not for you,” Mark acknowledges.

“You go look in the cabinet above the fridge, I’ll go find some smokeable stuff,” Donghyuck says, standing up and scurrying out of the kitchen.

 

“Why didn’you call me?” Jaehyun slurs, pouting at his empty glass.

“Whaddyou mean?” Doyoung asks.

“You know what I mean,” Jaehyun says. “You said you came _twice_ , I dunno what the problem was. Do you really not like me?”

Doyoung flushes. “Don’t talk about that, and no, I don’t… I don’t not like you,” he says, tongue stumbling over the grammar.

“I thought you had a good time,” Jaehyun murmurs, looking down. “I really wanted to see you again.”

“M’sorry,” Doyoung says, reaching out to place a gentle hand on his wrist. “I’ve got… sheesh, I got _morals_ , right? I’ve got… and _you_ , you don’even care _what_ you do. You could – Y’could be _evil_ and not even care,” he says, frowning.

“’Course I care,” Jaehyun says, finally meeting his gaze. “Shit’s not always black and white, y’know? Demons have morals too, sometimes, an’ I don’t think you fully understand that, y’know?” He places his own hand over Doyoung’s and squeezes, the look in his eyes almost pleading. The two share some quiet eye contact for a minute. “I guess you’re figuring it out now, ‘cause you’re helping a vampire and all,” Jaehyun says finally.

“Sicheng is… special,” Doyoung mumbles. “He has a soul.”

“Plenty of demons’ve got souls,” Jaehyun says. “Sicheng is special for other reasons, I can feel it.”

“You just think he’s cute,” Doyoung says, reaching out to stick his finger in Jaehyun’s face. Jaehyun grins.

“Of course. He’s juss got one of those auras that makes you wanna take care of him,” he says, grabbing Doyoung’s hand and pressing it against his cheek. Doyoung stiffens and blushes, casting his eyes downward. When his gaze lands on the table he finds that their other hands are still linked, and he curses silently for getting himself into this situation again.

“Why d’you like me so much?” he whispers.

Jaehyun hums thoughtfully. “You’re passionate. And funny. An’ you’ve got a cute mouth,” he says. Doyoung finds himself unconsciously biting his lip. “And at first it was just funny making you squirm, but then I saw you _naked_ , and well. Couldn’t let that go.”

“’Told you not to talk about that,” Doyoung grimaces.

“Why not? It was hot,” Jaehyun teases. “And I know you had as much fun as I did.” His thumb brushes gently against Doyoung’s knuckle and it feels nice. Doyoung sighs.

“Yes, alright, it was fun. It was also an _accident_ , one that I would regret completely if it wasn’t so…” he blushes, “…fun.”

Jaehyun smirks, and Doyoung already knows that those dimples are going to ruin his life once more.

 

“What’s this?” Mark asks, lifting up a bag of yet another fluffy brownish-green substance.

“Mugwort,” Donghyuck says, not bothering to look up from the spliff he’s rolling. “It gives you prophetic dreams and stuff.”

“Ah,” Mark nods. “And this?” He holds up another bag.

“That’s kava kava,” Donghyuck replies. “Actually, give that one to me.”

They’re sitting on the living room floor, Donghyuck hard at work rolling herbal cigarettes, Mark searching through a chest of magical supplies, and Sicheng sipping on a modest amount of eagle blood as he flicks through Jaehyun’s record collection. He pulls out something and walks over to the turntable. Soon the room fills with the sound of soft jazz.

“Good choice,” Donghyuck says, running his tongue along the gummed edge of the paper between his fingers.

“Hey, I actually can’t see myself in this mirror!” Sicheng calls from where he’s now standing in front of the fireplace. The mirror he mentions is hanging above it – it’s large and circular with an ornate but dirty frame. “That’s never really happened to me before,” he adds excitedly.

“That’s because it’s made out of real silver,” Donghyuck explains. “Hyung bought it from this old wicca lady at a garage sale a while ago. It’s an antique. Might be haunted,” he adds.

“Sick,” Mark says.

“Mhm,” Sicheng agrees, watching the mirror out of the corner of his eye as he takes a sip of blood. In the reflection the glass raises itself, and a margin of its contents disappear.

“Okay, I’m done!” Donghyuck says triumphantly, holding up a spliff in each hand. “We should probably smoke these outside, so that Jaehyun doesn’t—”

As if on cue, Jaehyun and Doyoung suddenly materialize inside the room, causing bags of herbs to tumble and scatter and rolling papers to flutter and blow away. Donghyuck lets out a surprised squeak and hides the cigarettes behind his back.

The two men are both flushed and sweaty, and clearly _very_ intoxicated, supporting each other with arms around their waists. Doyoung groans and clutches his head.

“I hate you. Teleporting drunk was a mistake,” he grumbles.

“At leas’ I got the location right,” Jaehyun laughs. Then he turns and beams at the three guilty-looking boys on the ground. “Glad to see you kids are getting along well. Doyoung and I are gonna go… discuss… magical business. In the other room. Keep doin’… whatever it is you were doing,” he says, and guides Doyoung out with a hand suspiciously low on his back.

“Mark, honey, we’re gonna be… talking for a bit, so why don’ you and the others go and play outside?” Doyoung calls over his shoulder. Without waiting for a response the two of them move quickly down the hall and there’s the sound of a door closing and locking.

Mark gapes. “That man has never, not once, called me ‘honey,’” he says.

“And now you won’t be able to say that anymore,” Donghyuck points out.

“And he said ‘play outside,’ like we’re babies. We’re not babies. Sicheng is like two hundred years old,” Mark sulks.

“I’m actually only a hundred and fifty,” Sicheng corrects him.

“You look good for your age,” Donghyuck says, and Sicheng smiles bashfully. Just then, a loud moan rips through the quiet room, causing all of them to flinch.

“Was that… Doyoung?” Sicheng asks quietly.

“Oh God,” Mark responds, face going pale. Sicheng nods sympathetically and goes to turn up the volume on the soft jazz. The music does absolutely nothing to drown out the whines and whimpers coming from down the hall. “Jesus, what’s this house made out of, paper?” Mark says through clenched teeth.

Donghyuck sighs and shakes his head. “I’ve still got those earplugs I offered you earlier. _Or,_ ” he holds up the smokes, “We could just go and light these up outside.”

“Yes, please, outside, let’s go,” Mark begs, taking one and motioning for Donghyuck to lead the way. The three of them head outside and settle into some lawn chairs in the backyard. They pass around both cigarettes at once, pausing between drags to continue some casual chatter (“I have some Lethe’s bramble if you want me to do a memory wipe on you,” Donghyuck offers). Everyone pretends not to hear the sound of the headboard banging against the wall of Jaehyun’s room.

 

“Shit, _shit_ ,” Doyoung moans, tightening his grip on Jaehyun’s biceps. “What’s going on? It feels like you’re touching me _everywhere_ …”

“Is it okay?” Jaehyun asks, stilling his hips momentarily and grinning when Doyoung groans and shifts his butt to take more of him inside.

“Yes, God, keep moving,” Doyoung gasps, and Jaehyun complies, after pausing to gently kiss the inside of Doyoung’s knee where it’s hooked over his shoulder. Doyoung squeaks and fumbles to dig his fingers into the back of Jaehyun’s neck and pull him down to press their lips together. Having Jaehyun’s tongue in his mouth gives him an odd electric feeling inside his head, just like the hands running over his body are giving him little sparks across his skin.

“Gods, I missed you,” Jaehyun grunts, snapping his hips forward and causing Doyoung to throw his head back with a loud moan. “Love how fucking noisy you are.” He reaches down to squeeze his ass and Doyoung whines. “You like it?”

“Yes,” Doyoung breathes. “God, yes, I love it, fuck, I’m so close—”

“Come whenever you want, baby,” Jaehyun says, and Doyoung nods, letting out a shudder at both the pet name and at the way Jaehyun’s thrusts pick up speed. He reaches down to roughly jerk himself off, feeling the pressure building in his gut, and he screws his eyes shut, mouth falling open with a choked-out moan as he comes over his fist and stomach. Jaehyun’s climax follows a few thrusts later, and after he finishes he collapses on top of Doyoung, burying his face in his neck and waiting to catch his breath.

“You know,” Doyoung huffs after a few minutes of silence and heavy breathing, “Using magic in the bedroom is _entirely_ unfair.”

“What, this?” Jaehyun rolls off of Doyoung and raises a hand. Doyoung tries to keep a disinterested expression as he can finally make out what looks like faint pink electricity flickering across his skin. “It’s not a sexual spell or anything, it’s mostly a party trick. I just guessed you would like it.” Doyoung blushes and frowns.

“Glad I didn’t disappoint,” he grumbles, scooting in to rest his cheek on Jaehyun’s shoulder. Jaehyun hums a laugh and wraps his arms around him.

“You’re sleeping here tonight,” he says, neither a question nor an offer. “Donghyuck will take care of your boys. We can do the locator spell tomorrow.”

Doyoung humphs in acquiescence, secretly relieved because absolutely no part of him wants to leave Jaehyun’s bed.

 

After the lewd noises die off, the three boys head back inside and prepare their sleeping situations after scrubbing the smell of smoke from their bodies with lilac-scented soap. Sicheng curls up on the living room couch, and Mark shares Donghyuck’s bed. He already feels oddly comfortable around the younger boy after only knowing him for a few hours, and when he timidly brings this up, Donghyuck tells him that it’s because the universe wants them to be friends.

“And you know this because…?”

“I told you already, I’m psychic.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> happy birthday lil marco


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this chapter is so late ! it's a longer one tho so hopefully yall wont be too mad at me :")

Doyoung wakes up to a kiss pressed against his forehead and a rough but quiet morning voice telling him there’s a glass of water on the bedside table. He drinks the whole thing with his eyes barely open and then falls back asleep to the feeling of gentle fingers combing through his hair.

When he wakes up a second time, his throat feels like water never existed and his head is throbbing. He groans and forces himself to his feet, picking up his clothes and shuffling to the bathroom to stick his head under the faucet. He hears footsteps approaching behind him and then he feels a hand squeeze his ass. He spins around, but his head jerks up too quickly, causing his vision to swim a little. He squeezes his eyes shut and leans against the sink with a shaky exhale.

“Morning, sleepyhead,” Jaehyun murmurs. He puts his hands on Doyoung’s waist and leans in to kiss him. Doyoung guards his mouth with a stubborn hand.

“Don’t,” he mumbles.

“Okay,” Jaehyun says, stepping back and holding up his hands. “No touching. Got it. I’m just in here to let you know we’re having pie for breakfast.”

Doyoung looks at him silently for a moment and then squints his eyes. “…On second thought, you can kiss me,” he says finally. Jaehyun beams and leans in to give him a gentle peck on the lips.

They go into the kitchen, where Sicheng is sitting at the table and drinking coffee. He’s got dark circles under his eyes, like he didn’t sleep well on the sofa, but he smiles up at Doyoung anyway. Doyoung smiles back and heads over to join him after taking a cup of coffee for himself.

“Ah, do you think you could go wake up the kids before you sit down?” Jaehyun asks. Doyoung rolls his eyes but puts down his mug and straightens up. “Thanks baby,” Jaehyun beams. Sicheng chokes on his coffee a little bit and Doyoung flushes.

“If you call me that again I’m going to strangle you,” he grumbles.

“You didn’t mind it last night,” Jaehyun points out, earning himself a hard punch in the shoulder. He laughs and rubs his arm as Doyoung heads down the hall, fuming.

He enters Donghyuck’s room after his gentle knocking is ignored. The boys have apparently gotten to know one another, because they are tangled up in each other’s arms and legs like a human knot. It’s cute, and Doyoung almost regrets waking them up, but he nudges Mark’s butt with his knee and says, “Up and at ‘em, fellas. We’re having breakfast and then we’ve got a spell to do.”

Mark sits up slowly, twisting around to glare at Doyoung through puffy eyes. His hair is sticking up at odd angles like it’s done every morning since he bleached the life out of it. Donghyuck groans and untangles himself from Mark’s legs. He slides out of bed without opening his eyes, making his way to the bathroom on autopilot.

“Did you sleep well with your new friend?” Doyoung teases. Mark shrugs and scratches his neck.

“He’s a better sleeping partner than you are, by far,” he replies.

“I’m glad you two are getting along. Now come out and have some pie.”

Mark nods and follows Doyoung to the kitchen, attempting to smooth out his hair with little success. Doyoung is reunited with his morning coffee, and the party eats breakfast in relative silence save for the sound of chewing. Jaehyun finishes eating first, and calls on Donghyuck to help him prepare the spell. Donghyuck rolls his eyes, stuffs almost an entire slice of pie in his mouth and gets up to grab a large mortar and pestle from a shelf next to the stove before following Jaehyun out of the room.

Doyoung, Mark and Sicheng are left alone in the kitchen. Doyoung can sense the glances that the other two are passing back and forth and it makes his skin prickle. “What?” he snaps.

Sicheng looks guilty, directing his gaze at his nearly untouched pie, but Mark has no such shame. “It sounded like you had fun last night, hyung,” he says with false innocence.

Doyoung glares at him, his ears getting hot. “…Shut up,” is the best response he can manage, and Mark snorts.

“We’re ready!” Donghyuck calls from the living room. Doyoung gives Mark a final dignified glare before he gets up. Mark just grins at him and Sicheng attempts to hide a smile as they follow him to join Donghyuck and Jaehyun.

Candles have been placed on the floor in a circle, and Donghyuck is lighting them one by one as Jaehyun grinds something up with the mortar and pestle. In the middle of the circle there is a map of Seoul, flattened out and held down by four crystals.

“So, how is this supposed to work?” Mark asks. Jaehyun and Donghyuck move to kneel at opposite ends of the circle. Jaehyun pours some powder from the mortar into his cupped hand, and passes it to Donghyuck do do the same.

“I recite the incantation and call upon the goddess Thespia, and then Donghyuckie and I each blow this mixture over the map. Then the areas with demons present should light up.”

“Sounds handy,” Mark says.

“Yes, unless there’s too many demons in one place and the map ends up catching on fire and scorching the rug,” Jaehyun replies with a pointed stare at Donghyuck, who rolls his eyes.

“That literally wasn’t even my fault,” he grumbles.

Jaehyun ignores him. “Are you ready, Donghyuckie?”

“Yes, hyung.”

“Then I’ll start.” Jaehyun closes his eyes and everything goes quiet. It’s like even the air in the room goes still. Doyoung can hear his pulse thudding softly in his ears. Then Jaehyun starts speaking, and it’s like there’s a slight echo behind his voice.

_“Thespia, we walk in shadow, walk in blindness. You are the protector of the night. Thespia, goddess, ruler of all darkness - we implore you - open a window to the world of the underbeing. With your knowledge, may we go in safety. With your grace, may we speak of your benevolence.”_ He opens his eyes and Doyoung is shocked to see that the whites have disappeared and the pupils expanded, coloring the entire eye an inky black. Jaehyun looks at Donghyuck, who doesn’t seem to be at all unnerved by this, and then both of them open their fists with the powder inside and blow it over the map between them.

Surprisingly (not that the magic users are surprised), instead of settling onto the paper, the dust just floats above it, creating a gently glowing mist. The lights in the mist begin to condense in several places, creating multicolored little shining pinpricks over the map.

“Donghyuck, which one is Taeyong?” Jaehyun asks, his eyes shifting back to normal.

“There,” Donghyuck says, pointing to a soft pink gleam. “I’ll write down the coordinates for you,” he adds to Doyoung, who nods appreciatively.

“Do you want us to come with you?” Jaehyun asks.

Sicheng shakes his head. “Taeyong will be more on edge the more people we bring. We should just go ourselves.” Jaehyun nods, leaning over to blow out the candles. “Thank you so much,” Sicheng adds, bowing politely.

“Anytime,” Jaehyun replies, smiling.

They say their goodbyes at the door. Mark and Donghyuck exchange numbers and take a selfie together. Doyoung and Jaehyun just stare at each other awkwardly.

“Well, you know how to reach me,” Jaehyun says finally. He opens his arms for a hug, face hopeful. Doyoung sighs and allows the embrace.

“Thank you,” Doyoung says. “Stop it,” he adds, swatting Jaehyun’s hand away from where it was grabbing at his ass.

“Call me,” Jaehyun shouts as they head down the front path, past the white picket fence.

 

“You’re kidding,” Doyoung says. The directions Jaehyun had drawn up for them had taken the trio to a part of the city almost as rough as Doyoung and Mark’s neighborhood. This one was less residential, and closer to the heart of the city. Instead of front porches and seedy convenience stores, the street is lined with bar lounges and clubs, each advertising sex and alcohol with tacky neon signs. The building they are standing in front of has a bright fuchsia display featuring two cherries dangling from a martini glass. Although the sign is relatively tasteful, the music booming from inside gives away what kind of establishment the Cherry Bomb is.

“I don’t think I’m going to be allowed in,” Mark says.

“It’s probably for the best,” Doyoung says. “You’ve kind of got a weakness for this guy.” Mark pouts but doesn’t argue. Sicheng pats him on the shoulder apologetically before heading inside with Doyoung.

The music is _way_ too loud, and the lighting is entirely magenta. It’s actually kind of flattering, dim enough that they can’t really make out any of the patrons, but brighter on the stages scattered around the room. A few performers are dancing, but nobody has drawn a crowd as big as the pink-haired guy on the stage at the back. He seems to be the main attraction, because there’s a dude’s voice coming from some speakers above the stage, commenting on his moves and occasionally making siren noises.

“Do you think that’s…”

“Yes, that’s him.”

Sicheng and Doyoung attempt to squeeze through the crowd, which is comprised of plenty of women and a surprising amount of men. They get some nasty looks from the bachelorette party that they push away from their spots directly in front of the stage, and then there’s nothing but a few feet of elevation between them and Taeyong.

Aside from tight black briefs and a sparkly tie, he’s completely naked, his body glowing from sweat and probably magic. Doyoung is actually having a hard time focusing on the mission until Sicheng elbows him in the ribs and clears his throat. To be fair, Taeyong seems to be in his element, and he keeps alternating between sensually closing his eyes and smirking at the audience. When his gaze lands on the two of them, however, his expression changes into the same nervous smile that he gave Doyoung last time.

“Oh, no, don’t tell me he’s gonna—” Doyoung starts, cutting himself off when Taeyong jumps from the stage and runs away through the curtains. The crowd starts booing as Doyoung and Sicheng head off after him.

They make it into the locker room in time to see him hopping away with trousers half up his legs, his shirt unbuttoned and fluttering behind him.

“Aw, no!” Doyoung yells when he sees Taeyong slip out of the back door.

Luckily, Taeyong ends up running into someone outside at full speed and collapsing onto the pavement.

“Hey man, what’s the rush? Oh,” Mark says, rubbing his bruised shoulder.

Taeyong groans. “Hi, Mark,” he replies. “What are you doing out here?”

“Definitely _not_ trying to sneak into the club, if that’s what you were wondering. You look good with pink hair,” Mark says, offering him a hand and helping him to his feet.

“Thank you,” Taeyong grimaces. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to—”

“HOLD IT,” Doyoung shouts as he and Sicheng storm out after them. Taeyong immediately puts his hands in the air.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says. “I didn’t even know the kid was here, honest.”

“That’s not why we’re here, creep,” Doyoung says. Taeyong rolls his eyes and sighs.

“Ugh, fine,” he huffs, taking something out of his back pocket.

“Is that _my wallet?_ ” Mark asks incredulously.

“You can have it back,” Taeyong says, handing it over to him. “It didn’t even have any money in it, just some Pokémon cards.”

“You better not have damaged my holo-charizard,” Mark pouts, examining its contents with a frown.

“He’s got a little plastic sleeve for it and everything,” Doyoung says. “But no, that’s not why we’re here either. Mister Puberty here probably didn’t even notice that his wallet was missing.”

“I need your help, Taeyong,” Sicheng says quietly. Taeyong looks at him, and for the first time some kind of emotion seems to register on his face. Something between humiliation and contempt.

“I thought you never wanted to see me again,” he sneers.

“I’m sorry,” Sicheng whispers, bowing his head. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad at you, it was stupid of me.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Taeyong says, waving his head. “It was months ago, let’s just forget about it.”

Sicheng casts his eyes downward and takes a breath. Taeyong silently buttons his shirt.

“I need to know if you have seen Yuta since he disappeared,” Sicheng says. “If you know where he is, please tell me.”

Taeyong pauses his buttoning and gives him a look. “What makes you think I know where he is?” he asks.

“You smell like him,” Sicheng says blankly.

Taeyong’s nose wrinkles. “I forgot you vampires do that. The whole creepy scenting thing. You’re so weird and domestic, that’s why you and him always got along so well.”

“Please tell me where Yuta is,” Sicheng pleads again. “I’m sorry things got so complicated the three of us, but I need to find him. I know you understand how I feel,” he says.

Taeyong stares at him. “Of course I know how you feel,” he replies. “I’ve known the two of you for a long time.” He goes quiet. “When’s the last time you saw him?”

“April of last year,” Sicheng says. “Before you and me… before we got closer.” Taeyong nods.

“I figured the two of you would end up together again before now,” he says. Sicheng winces slightly and Taeyong sighs. “…I saw him last week. I’ll take you to where he was if you’ll tell _these two idiots_ ,” he gestures at Doyoung and Mark, “To stop following me.”

Sicheng exchanges a glance with Doyoung, who says, “That shouldn’t be a problem. You won’t be seeing us again after you take us to Yuta.”

Taeyong takes a deep breath and exhales, shrugging and buttoning his shirt the rest of the way. “You guys are paying for the train,” he says.

 

They catch a late-night line out of the city, the buildings decreasing in size and frequency, until they end up in a fairly modern town with plenty of coffee shops and cinemas. From there they catch a cab, passing theaters and restaurants, then apartment blocks and neighborhoods, and then they are partway out into the country when the car stops at a water treatment facility in the hills. Sicheng pays the driver with an innocent smile, and then he, Mark, and Doyoung follow Taeyong southwest from the lot where they were dropped off, seemingly towards nowhere.

“So, uh,” Mark says, clearing his throat to interrupt the extended silence. “Taeyong… How long have you been working as a… uh… how long have you been working at that club?”

Taeyong huffs out a laugh, but it’s Sicheng who answers. “Taeyong-hyung has always been doing jobs like these,” he says. “He’s very good at that kind of thing.” Sicheng looks over at Taeyong with a hesitant but clearly admiring expression.

Taeyong doesn’t seem to mind. He even smiles, if a bit sadly, and says, “Humans have always been weak when it comes to sex. That’s why the incubi and succubi have always existed.”

“And are they all working as strippers now?” Doyoung asks. Taeyong gives him a tired glare.

“The rich ones are,” he replies simply, and Mark snorts.

“Taeyong-hyung,” Sicheng murmurs after another minute of silence, “Can you tell us where we’re going?”

“I told you, we’re going to find Yuta,” Taeyong replies. “And don’t think I haven’t noticed how restless your human friends are getting,” he adds, jerking his head in Doyoung’s direction. “There’s not gonna be an ambush or anything, I don’t have enough friends for that. And besides,” he says, stepping off of the path they’ve been following and heading towards the dark forest, “The most dangerous thing out here right now is your missing boyfriend.”

Sicheng winces and swallows, giving Doyoung and Mark a nervous glance before following Taeyong into the woods. Doyoung sighs and leans his head back before heading after them, keeping a protective hand on Mark’s upper back.

“He’s been living in the woods?” Sicheng asks. He and Taeyong seem to have no trouble avoiding roots and branches, but Doyoung and Mark have a bit more difficulty making their way through the darkness. They support each other’s weight as they carefully pick their way over the forest floor, soon falling a few paces behind their supernatural acquaintances.

“He’s living _under_ the woods,” Taeyong replies. Then he stops abruptly, causing Mark to walk right into Sicheng. Taeyong looks around, as if sensing some landmark that none of them can see. “This way,” he says finally, heading another ten feet to the right, and then he crouches down and takes out his phone.

The flashlight is almost blinding in the cool darkness of the forest, and for a second Doyoung can’t see anything even with the light. Then, after blinking the grainy colors out of his vision, he can make out a raised concrete block sticking out from the ground between the trees. In the middle of the block, somewhat obscured by branches and dead leaves, is a barred iron manhole cover.

“Can we open it?” Mark asks warily.

“ _We_ can’t,” Doyoung says. “You’d have to have some kind of supernatural strength to be able to lift—”

There’s a grinding squeak of metal against stone as Sicheng wrenches the iron cover out of the concrete. He stands back up and dusts off his knees. “Should we head down?” he asks casually.

The others blink at him, and then Taeyong steps forward, patting Sicheng roughly on the shoulder before approaching the manhole and carefully climbing down what must be a ladder inside. Sicheng follows, and then Mark, and finally Doyoung, who is really starting to wish he’d brought a real flashlight.

When his feet finally touch the ground again the four of them are in a surprisingly spacious underground tunnel. There are dim yellow fluorescent tubes hanging from the ceiling, barely bright enough to see anything. Mark casts the light from his phone around the room, illuminating slightly damp concrete walls and shiny greenish floors. Although the tunnel seems like it hasn’t been used in a while, it’s clearly been built or at least remodeled rather recently. There are brown metal drains at the base of the walls and scattered across the ground, and there’s even an emergency phone at the end of the hall under a barely flickering blue emergency light.

“Where are we?” Mark asks as Taeyong starts walking, his echoing footsteps filling the eerie quiet of the tunnel.

“The water treatment plant used to use these tunnels to manage the pipelines that brought clean water out to the countryside,” Taeyong replies.

“Used to? Why did they stop?”

“Because _something_ ,” Taeyong looks sideways at Sicheng, who keeps his gaze straight ahead, “kept killing the workers that came down here. Well, actually, they didn’t know the workers were dying. They just knew that whoever came down here at the wrong time, wouldn’t come back.”

Sicheng’s brows are pinched, but his jaw is set and he doesn’t say anything.

“Sicheng,” Taeyong continues, apparently not content with this reaction, “Even if we _do_ find Yuta… what makes you think he’s going to want to be with you again?”

Doyoung’s eyes widen and he glances at Mark, who stares back at him with the same worried expression. They had both considered this, but neither of them had brought it up for fear of wounding Sicheng. Taeyong seems to have no such qualms.

“You already know we’re gonna catch him down here,” he continues. “But what do you think we’re going to find? Did you really think he was going to stick with your diet when he left you? That guy’s got a real mean streak in him. You might have been able to keep it quiet when you were there, but I don’t think he was ever really housebroken.”

“Stop it,” Sicheng mutters.

“You can probably smell him from here, right? You know he’s been feeding again. How’s that soul of yours feel about _that,_ huh?” Taeyong sneers. “You know, the first time he drank human blood after he left you, it was like watching a starving man eat meat for the first time in decades. Vampires aren’t supposed to feed on animals, you know? It’s like putting a cat on a vegan diet.” Sicheng keeps shrinking smaller and smaller as Taeyong continues with cruel indifference. “You know, your moral high-ground might have even gotten to him a little bit. It took a while for him to start drinking right from the body again, but when I brought him a cute boy he just couldn’t resist—”

“Cut it out, Taeyong,” Doyoung snaps. Sicheng stays quiet, chewing on his lower lip, but he slows his walk until he’s standing still, eyes glued on the dirty tunnel floor. The rest of the party stops with him, and for a minute they stand in silence, contemplating.

“Come on Sicheng, we’re not stopping now, are we?” Mark asks softly. “We’ve gotten so far already. Taeyong’s just being a dick.” Taeyong’s lips go thin and he clears his throat.

“I just don’t want him getting his hopes up,” he grumbles.

“I think you’re jealous,” Doyoung says in spite of himself. He hears Mark’s breath hitch and Taeyong hits him with a searing glare. “Admit it, you’re mad because Sicheng dumped you and then only came back because he wanted to find his _actual_ boyfriend,” Doyoung shrugs. “I think you’re just pissed because even though you’re an incubus with all kinds of sexy supernatural powers, you still haven’t managed to find anyone but Sicheng and Yuta, and they’ve already got each other.”

Taeyong flies forward and grabs a fistful of Doyoung’s shirt, knocking him off balance and shoving him up against the wall, his feet barely touching the ground. For a split second, Doyoung sees something flicker across his handsome face, something ugly. He hears Mark squeak out a worried “hyung!” and his hand creeps towards his backpack. He’s not sure if he’s going to be able to reach a weapon, or if he should even attempt to fight Taeyong, but then the weight of the demon is lifted off of him and Doyoung regains his balance in time to look up and see Sicheng _throwing_ Taeyong across the room.

Taeyong manages to land on his feet, his shoes making slick scuffing noises against the damp concrete floor. He glares at Sicheng, clearly considering a fight but then deciding against it. Doyoung knows why when he glances over at Sicheng, who has shifted into his monstrous form, all bumps and ridges and claws and fangs. His body is hunched slightly, wound up like a predator ready to pounce, and Doyoung is starting to realize that the cute and worried boy that showed up in his office two nights before might be the most dangerous person in the tunnel with them.

As if Sicheng could sense his apprehension, as soon as he notices Doyoung and Mark staring he shifts back, human face wearing a slightly apologetic expression. He bites his lip again, and it’s like all of the ferocity that previously consumed him has melted away. Then he turns back to Taeyong, fixing him with a cold stare.

“You’re going to lead us to Yuta,” Sicheng says quietly. “And you’re going to be nice about it, please,” he adds. Taeyong groans and digs his fingers into his scalp.

“Always acting cute... Whatever,” he says, starting to walk down the hallway again. Sicheng follows him with a worried glance at Doyoung, who nods and heads after them, towing Mark with a loose grip on his elbow.

The tunnel splits into two directions and the party heads off to the right. They maintain an awkward, tense silence, their footsteps echoing off of the walls and ceiling. There’s no longer any faint lighting in the smaller corridors, and Mark’s phone provides the only illumination as they make their way deeper underground. The harsh white light in the darkness makes Taeyong and Sicheng look pale and gaunt. Doyoung feels the hair on the back of his neck prickle and he wonders if maybe something very unpleasant is about to happen, down where nobody would think to look for them. The situation reminds him too much of his earlier demon-hunting days, when he would patrol the sewers with his friends in search of vampire nests. But his current situation is much different, and those old friends are long dead. He has since learned to stop expecting anything to go as planned.

Taeyong stops walking, gesturing for the rest of them to slow down. Mark points his flashlight at the wall on their left, illuminating a heavy iron door. “Put that away,” Taeyong hisses, and Mark fumbles with his phone before the hallway goes dark.

“Oh God,” Sicheng whispers, “he’s really in there.”

“Yup,” Taeyong replies, before loudly banging on the metal door.

There’s a few seconds of quiet and then the loud grinding of metal against concrete. A dim orange light spills into the hallway from the open door, and to Doyoung’s surprise, soft music can be heard playing from inside.

“Taeyong,” a voice says. “What is this? Did you bring me food?” The man in the doorway is illuminated from behind by what seems like tens of dozens of candles scattered around within the vault. Doyoung can’t see his face, but his demeanor seems calm, innocuous. The atmosphere quickly changes, however, when he notices Sicheng standing a few steps behind Doyoung and Mark.

“…Winwin?” Yuta whispers, taking a step back. The lights in the room finally illuminate his face, a handsome one with a slender nose and strong brows.

“Hi,” Sicheng responds timidly. “Can I come in?”

Yuta frowns, his gaze drifting over the rest of them before settling on Sicheng again, eyes narrowed. Finally he nods slowly, stepping back and opening the door a bit wider. Sicheng blinks, glancing at Doyoung before carefully stepping inside. “The rest of you stay out here,” Yuta says. His voice is calm, but there’s something fierce hiding under it that makes Doyoung automatically reach out to put a protective hand on Mark’s shoulder as the vault door grinds shut once more, leaving them in darkness once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things are heating UP shit is getting REAL and we're in the home stretch!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!
> 
> it's been quite a year, but here i am, finishing what i've started for once.
> 
> thank you all for waiting so long, i hope the last chapter is to your liking!

“Why are you here?” Yuta asks quietly when the vault is sealed behind them. He looks good, healthy, and for some reason that makes Sicheng’s stomach twist.

“You know why,” he replies with a frown. Yuta sighs, walking over to the gramophone in the corner to turn off the music. Sicheng recognizes the machine – they had stolen it together in 1935 from the house where an old woman was living alone. She didn’t put up a fight, and Sicheng gets nauseous at the thought of what they did to her, how they left her body bent and broken in the back of a dark closet. He swallows the memory and tries to stay calm.

“Okay, then allow me to rephrase,” Yuta says. “How did you find me?”

“Taeyong led us here.”

“’Us,’” Yuta repeats. “You and the humans?” Sicheng nods and Yuta sighs. “I guess I’m not surprised. You _do_ like humans a lot.”

Sicheng frowns. “It’s not that I _like_ them, and you know that.”

“But you like those two.”

“Yes, I do,” Sicheng admits. “They’ve been kind to me, and they helped me find you.”

Yuta stares at a candle that flickers on a table by the door. Sicheng realizes that he hasn’t been able to meet his gaze once since they were alone together. “And what did you expect to find?” Yuta murmurs.

Sicheng thinks for a moment. “I guess I didn’t really care,” he says slowly, “as long as I found you.”

Yuta grimaces, and it feels like an icicle piercing Sicheng’s chest.

“You shouldn’t have tried to find me,” Yuta says with a pained expression.

“Don’t be stupid,” Sicheng replies, anger and sadness swirling inside of him like a midsummer storm. “You had to have known I would find you eventually.”

“I dreaded it,” Yuta admits. “You shouldn’t have come here,” he grumbles again, this time more quietly, as if speaking to himself.

Somewhere inside Sicheng, a dam breaks. The tears come forward before he can stop them, creeping over his eyelashes and falling soundlessly to the chamber floor, darkening the concrete.

 

“Can vampires really love without a soul?” Mark asks. He’s crouched on the floor, fiddling with the ripped part of his jeans.

Taeyong tsks, leaning back against the tunnel wall. “How do I explain… if it’s not love, it’s very similar. You know when you fall for someone, and suddenly it aches to be away from them?” Mark nods, although his expression betrays that he’s never felt anything of the sort. “Vampires have that feeling, even without a soul. It’s like an addiction, from what I’ve heard.” Taeyong pauses, looking up at the low ceiling. In the glare of Mark’s phone-flashlight, he appears pale and gaunt, still ethereally beautiful but also… dead. The effect is unsettling, and since their earlier argument, Doyoung finds himself searching that handsome face, trying to make out the darkness that had flashed across it before. “I guess it depends on what you think a soul actually _is_ ,” Taeyong continues. “If you believe that the ability to love resides in the soul, then of course a vampire cannot love. If you think the soul is just what dictates right and wrong, what keeps us from hurting the ones we love, well… I guess either way, poor Sicheng is in for a rough conversation.”

 

Yuta had never gotten used to seeing Sicheng cry. Vampires don't usually weep, as weeping implies emotional investment, which vampires typically view as unnecessary. Sicheng had cried a lot when he had first gotten his soul back, and back then it had made Yuta… remarkably uncomfortable. Now, rather than discomfort, what he feels is a sharp pain blooming from under his ribcage. The reaction surprises him, and he digs his fingers into his chest, his nails breaking holes through his thin shirt and drawing blood from the skin underneath, as if the physical pain could distract him.

Vampires are no strangers to pain, and they don’t fear or avoid it. Most of them even enjoy it, the immortality and lack of a soul making them reckless and uninhibited. But this kind of pain, the one that Sicheng brings out of him just by sniffling and scrubbing at his face with his sleeve… it’s different.

Yuta can’t really remember what his life was like before he was sired; the details are blurry, the memories slightly pale and distorted like looking through foggy glass. He wonders if the ache in his chest is at all similar to something he might have felt back when he had a soul, but he realizes soon that it is not heartbreak but _fear_. He is afraid of what will happen when Sicheng leaves him alone again.

“Winko,” he murmurs, and the old nickname earns him another quiet sob which Sicheng unsuccessfully attempts to muffle by biting into the knuckle of his thumb. “Baby,” he tries again, lifting his hands hesitantly and taking a step forward. Sicheng takes a quick step back at the same time, fixing him with a watery glare.

“Just- just tell me why you left,” he says, voice shaking. “Tell me what happened, and I’ll leave.” The ache from Yuta’s heart rises into his throat but he nods.

He slowly untucks his shirt, and when Sicheng raises an eyebrow at him, he just keeps a calm expression as he undoes the buttons, revealing his chest. Sicheng’s breath catches before he notices what Yuta is showing him—a deep, rough scar just beneath his right pectoral. It is fairly old, going pale around the edges, the raised center still the color of raw meat. Sicheng automatically reaches out, running his fingers over it softly, eyes wide. Yuta huffs out a soft exhale through his nose, eyes fluttering shut at the first gentle touch he’s felt in years. The sound seems to make Sicheng snap out of whatever thoughts he was lost in, and he jerks back, glancing away and gnawing furiously on his lower lip. Yuta just sighs and buttons his shirt back up.

“A slayer got me,” he explains. “Or, I guess, _the_ slayer. She saw me when I was going out to visit Taeyong, and she must have recognized me or something, because she followed me until I got to the alleyway behind the club where Taeyong worked back then, and she attacked me. At that point I hadn’t fed in a while, and I was off my game, and she caught me unprepared.” Sicheng is wearing a shocked expression, covering his mouth with both hands, and Yuta has to chuckle at how his mannerisms haven’t changed, even after all these years. “Don’t look at me like that, Winko,” he says. “At least she missed my heart, right?”

Sicheng nods, his eyebrows drawing together. “But that doesn’t explain why you disappeared.”

Yuta clears his throat, scratching the back of his neck. “Well, Taeyong came out then, and he managed to scare her away, I guess.”

Sicheng lets out a snort, and the sound somehow makes Yuta’s stomach flip. “ _Taeyong?_ ” he asks incredulously.

Yuta laughs softly. “Well, you know how mean he can look, especially in his original form with the horns and the wings and all. And that slayer was probably just barely out of high school, she probably didn’t want to fight when she wasn’t sure what she was getting into.”

“Yuta,” Sicheng says sternly. “Tell my why you left.”

Yuta coughs again. “Well, I knew she would be coming back to find me and maybe Taeyong, with backup and weapons, so I figured it would be best if I… went under the radar for a while.”

Sicheng stares at him, processing. “So you decided to run away… without me.”

Yuta swallows. “Yeah.”

Sicheng’s frown deepens, and he suddenly steps forward and gives Yuta a rough shove. “You idiot. I could have protected you.” His expression is twisted, angry, but his voice is shaking. He beats his fists against Yuta’s chest again, but not hard enough to hurt, and Yuta catches his hands with his own and holds them there. Sicheng could break away if he wanted, but instead it seems like most of his energy is being put into keeping his expression from revealing how wounded he is.

“But _could_ you have protected me, really?” Yuta murmurs, voice hoarse. “If the slayer came after us, would you have really hurt a human? A teenage girl?”

Sicheng huffs, looking down at where his fists are still pressed against Yuta’s chest, Yuta’s hands warm around his wrists. He knows Yuta is right, but he doesn’t have to say it out loud. Yuta hums at his silence, absentmindedly brushing a thumb over the back of Sicheng’s hand.

Sicheng immediately draws back, jerking his arms out of Yuta’s grip and giving him with a pained look.

“Sorry,” Yuta mumbles, but Sicheng just shakes his head.

“Don’t do things like that unless you’re going to come back with me,” he replies quietly.

“I can’t,” Yuta says. Vampires don’t need to breathe, which is fortunate, because it feels like his lungs are constricting. “The slayer could still be out there—”

“Stop it,” Sicheng snaps, with a ferocity that Yuta hasn’t seen from him in a while. “It’s been _three years_. Taeyong hasn’t exactly been hunted down, even if he had to switch jobs. If you don’t want to be with me anymore, just say so, or at least come up with a better excuse.”

Yuta blinks and stares at the ground, suddenly feeling small. He takes a deep breath before forcing himself to meet Sicheng’s eyes again. Sicheng’s hands are balled into fists at his sides, and he looks kind of cute when he’s mad, and the ache in Yuta’s chest throbs a little bit.

“You have a soul,” he says finally, “And I don’t.” He can just make out the tears forming in Sicheng’s eyes again before hides his face in his hands.

“I knew it,” Sicheng says, voice muffled slightly. “I knew it, I knew it,” he mumbles again, shoulders shaking slightly. Yuta wants to reach out, to touch him, but he holds back, nails digging into his palms.

“No, you don’t get it,” he chokes out. Sicheng looks at him again, frowning and crying and pouting and oh, if Yuta’s heart hadn’t stopped three centuries ago, he would be a goner in this moment. He groans, running his fingers through his hair and tugging at it in frustration, hoping the sting will clear his mind.

“ _Then explain it to me_ ,” Sicheng all but yells, his voice echoing off the chamber walls.

 

The trio outside in the hallway hear muffled shouting from behind the locked door and exchange quizzical glances. Taeyong huffs out a laugh, causing Doyoung to narrow his eyes.

“I don’t really see what’s so funny,” he says.

Taeyong’s smirk falters but he just snorts and doesn't respond.

“Do you really think they aren’t going to get back together?” Mark asks. Taeyong shrugs.

“They had their spats when they were both soulless. But when Sicheng got cursed, it was like… like suddenly, there were no more storms. Like the fire was taken out of both of them.” Taeyong’s expression twists. “Something wasn’t right there. I could tell they were both struggling inside, but between them it seemed like there was no longer any room for conflict.”

“What do you mean?” Doyoung asks, frowning.

“Well, when he first got his soul back, Sicheng was super emotional, over-sensitive. He cried all the time, screamed for no reason. Real annoying. And Yuta, well, for some reason, he seemed to get more _afraid_ of Sicheng, started walking on eggshells around him.”

“Uh-huh,” Doyoung says, frown deepening.

“I bet Yuta left Sicheng because he couldn’t stand being repressed like that. And the blood thing. I bet that was the deal breaker.”

“You know, I really can’t tell which of them you’re in love with,” Doyoung deadpans. Taeyong scowls.

 

“Can you smell the human blood on me? _In_ me?” Yuta asks, searching carefully for words and speaking slowly. Sicheng nods. “And you can smell it in humans, for sure. You can smell it moving in them, all hot in their veins, making them warm. That was the hardest part for me, when I was drinking ox blood with you.”

“It was hard for me too, you know,” Sicheng replies, lip curled and voice shaky. “Smelling the blood… it made me disgusted with myself.”

“Exactly. But for you, it was because you had a soul. For me, it was because… because I _didn’t_ have one, and I could picture so clearly what I wanted to do to every rosy young woman who passed us on the street… and I would be sitting with you, on the train or something, and fantasizing about reaching over to the seat in front of us, and slicing a man from ear to ear. Thinking this shit so casually, no… so passionately, with you falling asleep on my shoulder. I wasn’t disgusted with myself. I was terrified I would snap, and that you would come to hate me,” Yuta sighs and crosses his arms. “I’ve been a killer since long before you were born, but… it was only when you got your soul that I started feeling like a monster.”

“So you left.” Sicheng doesn’t like how accusatory it sounds once it leaves his mouth, but he tries his best to maintain eye contact, which Yuta breaks to look down at his feet.

“After the slayer got me, I took it as an excuse to leave. I didn’t like how I felt around you, and I decided it would be easier to escape than to try and make myself better. No soul, y’know? Easiest way out, always.” He makes a definitive gesture. “I guess I knew you’d come find me.”

“You said I shouldn’t have come.”

“I knew it would hurt.” Yuta raises his head to meet Sicheng’s eyes again. “Knew it’d make me feel guilty for eating people.”

“Eating people is wrong,” Sicheng says, the corner of his mouth twitching into an involuntary smile.

“See, I _know_ this, but I don’t _feel_ it unless I’m with you. And I wasn’t ready to accept that feeling, so I ran. But…”

“But?” Sicheng takes a half-step closer.

“But not being around you is even worse. Being alone makes me feel like even more of a monster, like a stupid, asshole monster who lost the only good thing of his undead life because he couldn’t handle the emotional labor,” Yuta says. Sicheng takes another step closer. Yuta uncrosses his arms with a deep breath.

“I know you’re a monster,” Sicheng murmurs. “We were monsters together for a long time. I’m sure you remember.” He takes another step forward, timid hands reaching out to gently touch the front of Yuta’s shirt.

“I remember,” Yuta replies, arms automatically reaching out for Sicheng’s hips.

“I know you think about blood all the time. I also think about blood all the time,” Sicheng says, getting closer so that Yuta can fully embrace him. He rests his head on Yuta’s shoulder. “Just come back with me. Nothing permanent, no promises, just some more conversation. I think we should just be honest with each other about these past years. And then we can decide where to go from there.”

Yuta hums, and when Sicheng looks up to get a verbal affirmation he is surprised with soft lips on his own.

Almost every part of him wants to hang on, to get closer, deeper into the feeling he’d been missing this whole time. But that one part of him, the part that worries about the future, thankfully holds him back, and he breaks the kiss, staying close enough to feel Yuta’s cool breath on his face.

“Let’s go then.”

 

The vault door squeaks open after what feels like ages, spilling flickering orange light into the dark hallway. Doyoung looks up from his solitaire app (no signal underground) to see Sicheng come out, hand in hand with Bloody Nakamoto. He isn’t sure how he feels about it, and Sicheng’s face is equally unreadable, brow furrowed with what could be either anxiety or resolve.

“How do we get out of this dump?” Mark asks. “No offense,” he adds. Yuta waves it off.

The walk out seems to take less time than the walk there, and soon the party is once again in the woods. Doyoung takes a deep breath of the night air, pleasantly cool and not damp and coppery like underground. He realizes in hindsight that the smell of the tunnels might have been human blood, and not the rusty old pipes he had figured it was.

They start the walk back towards civilization, searching for a signal. Yuta and Sicheng exchange brief, hushed words, and Taeyong’s attention stays intently on his phone.

“Where will you two go after this?” Mark asks. Sicheng shrugs and looks to Yuta for suggestions.

“Somewhere relatively safe and hidden,” he says. “Anywhere the slayer won’t come looking.”

“Slayer? What slayer?” Mark asks.

“You’re really still afraid of the slayer?” Sicheng says in disbelief. “Do you really think she’s been waiting around here for three years?”

“Three years?” Mark interrupts again, looking urgently between Yuta and Doyoung, whose mouth hardens into a line.

“Yeah, a slayer got me good a few years back. Worried she might catch up with me. Why?” Yuta says.

Mark gapes a bit, still glancing nervously at Doyoung, who sighs.

“You don’t have to worry about her,” he says. “She’s dead.”

“Oh,” Yuta says. His mouth opens again, but he seems to think better about whatever he was going to say, and stays quiet.

“You knew her?” Sicheng asks.

Doyoung nods. “We went to high school together. She was one of my best friends. Got me into hunting demons. Or, I guess, she attempted and failed to keep me from trying to help her save the world. But I’d like to think I saved her ass a few times.” He almost smiles. “Three years ago, she must have been… nineteen. That’s probably a pretty advanced age for a slayer, anyway.”

“What killed her?” Yuta says. Sicheng elbows him in the side. “Sorry,” he mumbles.

Doyoung shakes his head. “A vampire. An old one, all fucked up and more demon than human in appearance. Cloven feet, the whole thing. Her stake didn’t dust him, I saw him pull it out like it was a bee sting. And then I saw him… squeeze the life out of her.” His vision is getting a bit wet and salty, but he feels Mark’s hand slip into his. “So you don’t have to worry about her, right? The new slayer is probably on the other side of the world,” Doyoung says, chuckling weakly.

“Right,” Yuta says.

“I got a signal,” Taeyong says from a few meters ahead. “I’ll call for a car. Hope they’re willing to come all the way out to the sticks for us.”

 

The late night fare is expensive, and Doyoung wishes the atmosphere inside the Lyft was more comfortable. He had hoped their group would be relieved after finding Sicheng’s partner, and even though those two have their fingers interlocked, both wear stony expressions betraying a strange instability in the gesture. Taeyong isn’t helping, brooding in the far back corner of the van.

They get back to town with not many words exchanged between them. They step out of the car, Sicheng paying again and taking a deep breath as the driver speeds off.

“Well?” Doyoung asks.

“I suppose you two need someone to walk you back to the train station,” Sicheng says.

“You’re not coming back to the city with us?” asks Mark.

“No, Yuta and I can find some 24-hour donut shop around here. We’re going to have a talk,” Sicheng replies. “Taeyong,” he adds, “why don’t you come with us?”

The incubus in question looks up from sullenly picking at his fingernail, eyebrow raised. “Why do you want me?”

“You look like you could use a donut,” Sicheng replies. Taeyong scoffs, and tucks his hands into his pockets. Then he seems to think for a minute, staring at his feet and biting at the inside of his cheek.

“Yeah, alright,” he says, turning and walking towards the station. The others follow. Doyoung watches Sicheng shoot Yuta a little look, a private little smile, and tuck his hand around Yuta’s arm. Yuta returns the smile, softer than Doyoung would have expected, and suddenly he feels better about the whole situation.

About a block from the station, Sicheng gives Mark a hug, and clasps Doyoung’s hands for a long second. Then he, Yuta, and Taeyong head towards some metal chairs by a 24/7 convenience store.

“Where to now, hyung?” Mark asks. “Back to HQ?”

“Is that what you want?” Doyoung asks, internally sighing at the thought of the yellow fluorescent lights and the wooden board over the window.

“Not really,” Mark says.

“Then what did you have in mind?”

 

A few stops past their own, the two get off in a small town and walk until the birds start chirping, the first hints of dawn brightening the horizon. The sun rises blood red just as they approach the house with the cherry door.

They don’t get halfway up the path this time before said door opens wide, spilling yellow light onto the dark steps. Donghyuck runs out, wrapped in a blanket, followed by a sleepy-looking but smiling warlock. The teenagers share a fuzzy embrace as the adults share a serious conversation through quiet eye contact.

“Well, come on in,” Jaehyun finally says, laying a comforting hand on Doyoung’s shoulder. “Let’s get you some pie.”

Doyoung smiles thankfully and takes Jaehyun's hand, following him into the warm light.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> twitter: @NCT_420
> 
> thanks for reading ;~)


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